Yesterday morning I sifted through a whole load of correspondence, looking for a changed password. Once again a society had stopped sending out mail and you had to use the internet. I was cross, had already written to them, and had had a silly email back from someone in customer care telling me to do it as explained on the site.
Missing my point that IF they changed my old phone number to the new one I could use the verification code requested and access my account. Patience was rewarded and I found the new password, which now resides in my old green 'password' book, and edited my phone number.
I have had this green journal since 1998, it was originally a garden book, noting things I had bought, bees I had seen and dyes that I had used for wool dyeing.
Apple trees, whose names I had fallen in love with: White Transparent (Russian and early) Blue Pearmain, Rev. Wilkes and Annie Elizabeth were planted near to each other, marriage made in heaven? No, their blossoming time did not happen at the same time. Merton Russett, Discovery, Katy, Fiesta, Gala and May Queen. Pears and plums followed and over time I had abundance of fruit and bought an apple press £130.
It is all there not many entries but moments of interest, roses planted for instance. A good sized garden I filled it up, going vertical with trellis so that honeysuckles mixed with climbing roses, completely untidy but alive. The two ponds built, in the first one after having dug the hole, the membrane sheet was put on top to be filled in the following morning, and lo and behold next morning there were two newts sitting there waiting for their pond to be filled up! In May I would watch the damselflies mate on the yellow irises, later on the great yellow eyed dragonfly coursed up and down the lawn path, Bring a pond into the garden and apart from frogs and frogspawn a whole new world appears.
As I have been typing this my phone keeps pinging, bringing the sad news that my daughter's aunt in Switzerland is fast losing her life. Karen will fly out soon. She recovered slightly yesterday in hospital but now the news is not good. So I will end, on this diary like form as I once so many years ago wrote in my old green journal.
I hope the passing is gentle Thelma.
ReplyDeleteI love the old apple names and also the idea of the garden being wild. My sort of garden - it is what i aim for here. I bought a couple of Christopher Lloyd's garden books second hand from Amazon - The Well Tempered Garden we spoke of and also one just called The Cottage Garden - both are a delight. I like things to arrive - and if I like them they stay. Last year it was foxgloves and Aquelegia - now both flower everywhere on my plot.
I love thumbing through old journals. I kept one a few years ago - in four spring-backed notebooks - of my doings over the four seasons. I often read it.
I feel immensely sad about Annabel, it will hit my daughter hard. My age group of course will dissolve with time of course, it is just accepting it. Glad you got Lloyd's two books, his garden was always a dazzling display. He follows on from a line of early gardeners such as Gertrude Jekyll.
Delete